The admiral went on board the Royal Charles. William was on his father's staff, and for a short time saw something of naval life. Ere long he landed at Harwich with dispatches from the Duke of York to Charles, announcing a great victory won by Admiral Penn. Peace soon followed, and the admiral came home. His happiness, however, over the great victory was soon clouded by perceiving a great change in William. Once more he had become grave and silent, had ceased to carry his hat in his hand and to show himself at court. His days were spent in reading, and those who came to see him were quiet, thoughtful persons. Again the admiral's hopes were blasted. What could he do with him? He determined to send him to Ireland, first to Dublin and afterwards to Shangarry Castle, a fine estate, that had been presented to him by the king. William sailed for Dublin and waited on the Duke of Ormond. With one of the duke's sons, Lord Arran, he soon became a strong friend. He was gay and bright, and ready for the boldest things. While waiting on the Dublin court, a meeting took place at Carrickfergus and the rioters seized the castle. To Arran was assigned the duty of suppressing the riot, and William went with his friend. His bravery was so marked that the Duke of Ormond was desirous, so he wrote to his father, to confer on him the command of a company at Kinsale.

At this time was painted the only portrait of Penn ever taken from life. He is dressed in the military costume of a high-born cavalier. His features are full and beautifully formed. A sweet, calm face, yet there is not wanting that high-souled, tenacious purpose, which is the dominant note in his great career.

From Dublin he went to Kinsale and Shangarry

Castle, where he remained until his return to London to witness the marriage of his sister. The admiral gave a large fortune to her, and her dresses and jewels were declared to be like those of a duchess. After his return to Ireland, William heard that Thomas Loe was to preach at Cork. Several years had passed since he had been smitten by that strange spell at Oxford. Soon after the opening of the meeting the police came in and arrested the congregation. All were required to appear before the mayor, but he proposed to release young Penn, Lord of Shangarry Castle, on giving his word to keep the peace. Penn denied that, in meeting for worship, either he or any of his fellow-prisoners had been guilty of a breach of law. He would not give his word. "Unless you give bonds for your good behavior," said the mayor, "I must commit you with the rest.” what authority do you act?" replied Penn. "A procla mation of the year 1660," replied the mayor. Penn knew the proclamation was aimed at a different class of men, and he told the mayor that the Friends had met to worship God, and not to pull down thrones. As the Lord of Shangarry Castle would not yield, he, too, was lodged in jail. From his prison he wrote to the President of Munster, and an order was sent to the mayor to discharge him.

On

Through the admiral's friends in Dublin he learned. of his son's conduct. In anger he recalled him to London, where young Penn arrived a few days before Christmas. Sir William frowned on him, but his son's bearing was so polite and easy that his disposition toward him softened. Seeing that his son omitted to unhat himself, according to the fashion of the day, the admiral asked him what he meant. "I am a Friend," said

William, "and Friends take off their hats to none but God." "Then how would you behave at court?" Penn asked for time to consider. Then came his an

swer that he could not lift his hat to mortal man. "Not even to the king and Duke of York?" inquired his father.

of York."

"No sir, not even to the king and Duke The admiral then turned him out of doors. Why was Penn opposed to uncovering his head? If his head had been bald or misshapen perhaps his obstinacy would have seemed less unreasonable. But fashions, as well as their significance, change, and so has the fashion of wearing the hat. In the beginning it was made to wear, and not to carry in one's hand. Men wore them in house and church, in street and park; when eating a meal or listening to a play. "I get a strange cold in my head," wrote Pepys, "by flinging my hat off at dinner." Every one in those days ate with his head covered. Clarendon says he always sat uncovered in the presence of his elders except at meals, when he and the other lads put on their hats. A shopman behind the counter wore his hat, and so did the preacher in the pulpit. The Puritans always wore their hats, and only doffed them when repeating the name of God. When Charles II. ascended the throne, a hundred foreign fashions came into vogue, French words, habits and fashions. Hat-lifting therefore, was the sign of a foreign fashion, and all sober persons wore them, while youths and courtiers carried them in their hands. By the Friends "the taking off the hat to a man, the bowings and cringings of the body, and such other salutations of that kind, with all the foolish and superstitious formalities attending them," were condemned.'

1 Barclay's Apology, 476.

Though shut out from home, he was not forgotten by his loving mother. She sent money to him, while his friends welcomed him to their homes. Yet banishment from his lovely home in the Navy Gardens was a trial to his faith. His father could not understand his conduct. What was William to gain by giving up rank and home and great worldly prospects? Before him was blazing the truth that the teachings of Fox were worth far more than these things.

"He walked by faith and not by sight,

By love and not by law;

The presence of the wrong or right

He rather felt than saw.

He felt that wrong with wrong partakes,
That nothing stands alone,

That whoso gives the motive makes

His brother's sins his own.

And pausing not for doubtful choice

Of evils great or small,

He listened to the inward voice,

Which calls away from all."

SECTION II.

From His Return to the Founding of Pennsylvauia.

1667-1682.

After a short absence from the Navy Gardens Penn was suffered to return, but the admiral would not speak to him, nor permit him to sit at the table. For a time he wore his sword, but he did not feel quite at ease in wearing it. One day, when in company with George Fox, he asked his advice, remarking that perhaps he might appear singular among Friends. It had, however, been the means of saving his life without injuring his assailant, and besides, had not Christ said, "He that hath no sword, let him sell his garment and buy one?"

Fox answered, "I advise thee to wear it as long as thou canst." Not many days afterward they met, and as Penn had no sword, Fox asked, "William, where is thy sword?" "Oh !" said he, "I have taken thy advice. I wore it as long as I could." Henceforth, his only weapons were his voice and his

pen.

He began by issuing a short statement concerning the Friends' doctrine of the inner light, "the one light for princes, priests and people." The title of his book is worth giving, for in those days it was the custom to state the purpose and object of a book in the title itself. It is called, "Truth Exalted, in a short but sure testimony against all those religious faiths, and worships. that have been formed and followed in the darkness of apostasy, and for that glorious light which is now risen. and shines forth in the life and doctrine of the despised Quakers as the alone good old way of life and salvation." This was signed by William Penn, "whom divine love constrains in holy content to trample upon Egypt's glory, not fearing the king's wrath, having beheld the majesty of Him who is invisible."

Penn had boldly faced the enemy. Unmoved by the sneers of scoffers, and wearing his hat in the presence of lords, is he the same William Penn who a few months before was carrying his hat in his hand, a sword in his belt, the welcome and jolly guest at every feast? In company with George Whitehead and Thomas Loe, Penn waited on the Duke of Buckingham, and, standing covered in his presence, urged him to adopt a policy of religious toleration. The Duke listened while Penn sternly denounced the sending of so many good men to the stocks and pillories. His grace not only thanked his guests, but told them he believed as they did, and